


we'll make the sun shine bright

by theheadgirl



Category: Frozen (2013), Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Arendelle (Disney), F/M, Fake Marriage, Sharing a Bed, Sharing a Room, There Is Only One Bed, Tropes, hygge!!!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-02-08 16:39:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,942
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18627124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theheadgirl/pseuds/theheadgirl
Summary: A Heartless attack during what should have been a routine run to Traverse Town leads to a crash on an icy planet called Arendelle - and a revelation or two for Leon and Aerith.





	we'll make the sun shine bright

“That's _all_ the food you're bringing?” Cid asks with a scowl, looking at the satchel Aerith is holding. “That's three days to Traverse Town and back.”

Aerith smiles. “This will be plenty. Well -” She cocks her head, tapping a finger gently against her chin as she thinks. “Maybe we ought to bring a few more provisions. You're probably right, Cid. Thanks.”

She opens the door of the gummi ship and climbs in, setting the bag of food between the driver's and passenger's seats.

“What's he yelling about?” Leon asks, not looking up from the readouts as he checks the systems.

“He wants us to bring more food.” Aerith looks away, back out the door, and in that moment, Leon looks at her, too. When she turns back, he's back into his system array, focused on his work. “He's sick with worry.”

“We'll be fine.”

“I know that.” She sighs. “You know that. Cid knows it too. I can understand, though. This is our first time leaving Hollow Bastion since we resettled here. The last time we left, it took us ten years to come back home.”

Leon grunts softly under his breath. “Get more food, then. And soap.”

Aerith laughs and shakes her head. “Aye-aye.” She inhales like she's about to say something else, then exhales and, with a smile at the side of Leon's head, leaves the gummi ship.

Leon sits up, watching her go. He understands the old man's worry. He'd been fifteen when they'd had to flee Radiant Gardens because of the Heartless invasion, and the memories of screams and crackling flames still keep him awake some nights. He remembers all too clearly her sobbing on the ship that night, and desperately wanting to comfort her, but being too weighed down by his own grief and guilt. How they'd arrived at Traverse Town a day and a half later, and seeing the grief in her eyes vanish under a layer of determined, bloody-minded cheer, setting her own heartbreak aside to care for Yuffie and help the Captain and Leon start their new lives.

He doesn't want that to happen again.

Leaving Hollow Bastion is a scary proposition, but a necessary one. It _has_ been ten years, and he's trained and trained so no one could ever hurt him or the people he loves again. Not to mention Aerith is a fierce fighter in her own right: she may be all smiles and softness, but woe betide the fool who gets in front of her Firaga.

Alone in the ship, he lets himself exhale. It's not enough to unwind the tension that's been sitting in his shoulders and jaw for a decade now, but he feels a little better for having done it.

“Thanks, Cid!” Aerith calls as she climbs back into the ship. “We'll definitely have enough now. I'll make sure Leon comms when we get to Traverse Town. See you soon!”

She closes the door and secures it, then takes her spot in the passenger seat.

“How much food do we have now?”

“Enough to feed a family of five for a week.” She giggles. “I'm a little concerned it might throw off the weight of the ship.”

“Hn. Ready?”

“Ready.” Her fingers dance over the panel in front of her as she inputs the coordinates for Traverse Town. Leon reaches up and presses the button to open the bay doors, and the engines of the ship start thrumming to life.

He breathes in, and they take off.

 

There's no reason to think it won't be a perfectly normal, boring flight to Traverse Town. Aerith talks and Leon listens, occasionally interjecting a thought or a sound of agreement or disbelief.

“Get some rest,” he tells her about midnight Hollow Bastion time. “I'll wake you when it's your turn to fly.”

“Thanks, Leon. Good night.” She drops a hand onto his shoulder and squeezes it, then goes into the back of the ship for some sleep. His shoulder burns where she touched it and, without thinking, he brings his own hand up to touch it.

The hours pass, the stars streaking past the ship's windshield, and although Leon keeps an eye on the radar, there doesn't seem to be anything out there.

He wonders if this is the same route they took the last time they left, if he'd seen these same stars when he'd been fifteen and brokenhearted.

Stars that are rapidly blotting out.

_Heartless._

“Aerith!” he calls.

“What is it?” Aerith calls back. Leon hears footsteps, and glances back just long enough to see her stepping out. Her chestnut-colored hair falls in loose waves, and his heart stutters in a way that has nothing to do with the oncoming attack.

“Heartless attack. I need you on guns.”

“Aye-aye.” Without hesitation, she drops into the other seat and presses a few buttons to bring up the weapons array. While it comes up, her fingers move unbelievably quickly to pull her hair back into its characteristic plait.

Leon refocuses on the black ships surrounding them, eyes darting from ship to ship, figuring out the best course to evade them. A blast rocks the ship, and he boosts the speed. Next to him, Aerith begins returning fire.

“Three o'clock high!” Aerith calls, and Leon pivots the ship to avoid the ship coming up on them. He dives down, and the ship shakes again under a barrage from the Heartless ships.

Running low on shields,” Aerith reports.

“We're almost out of it,” Leon replies. He glances at her. “Keep it up.”

She just smiles and aims, taking out another Heartless ship with a perfectly aimed shot.

Three more sharp blasts, and the ship trembles like it might shake apart.

“Shields are out.”

“Can we divert power?”

“Yes, but it'll take a minute and I don't know if we -”

It all seems to happen in slow motion.

The shot from the Heartless ship, aimed directly at the main window of the ship. The blast as it hits. Aerith cries out, and Leon turns slowly, slowly, like moving through molasses, as she's thrown forward, head smacking against the panel. She falls back, limp, blood dripping down her face.

“AERITH!”

Before he can do anything, even unbuckle his seatbelt and go to her, a second blast hits, and everything goes black.

 

Leon starts awake, head throbbing, every inch of him hurting. He sits up, fighting in breath after pained breath. His lungs burn.

Where are they?

It's cold. It's so cold. Snow crunches under him as he shifts his weight. Far off in the distance, he sees a mountain range looming, though focusing on it - or anything - makes his head pound.

The ship. The shields. Heartless. _Aerith_. Blood on her face in the moment before the explosion-

He lurches to his feet and staggers, clutching his head as it swims. Blindly, he reaches out for purchase, hand landing on the freezing surface of the ship.

He's not doing anyone any good in this condition. Closing his eyes to stop the spinning, he presses a hand to his chest, feeling the warmth of the magic gathering there.

“ _Curaga._ ” The warmth blooms in his chest and spreads through his body, fixing some - not all, but enough - of the damage.

When he opens his eyes this time, his vision is clearer, and the world seems steadier. He glances at the gummi ship. It's in bad shape, but not beyond repair. Not important right now. Dismissing it, he scans the landscape, taking in mountains in the distance, frozen trees, and -

“Aerith.”

She's so still, ensconced in a snowbank like a queen on a burial dais. He runs to her and checks around her for blood. There's little, aside from the cut on her head, so either the damage is limited to the cut, or it's all internal. He presses his fingers to the side of her neck and for the longest moment of his life, he doesn't feel a pulse.

Then - thank the s _tars_ \- he feels it. It's weak but steady, but she's alive. Of course he doesn't have any Phoenix down with him because this was supposed to just be a run to Traverse Town.

Leon shakes his hand out, carefully placing it on Aerith's upper chest. “ _Curaga_.”

A wave of green light surrounds her. He knows it's only helping a little, but it's something.

His teeth are chattering and he knows that lying in the snow isn't helping Aerith get better. They have to find shelter. Carefully, Leon slides his arms under Aerith and scoops her up, taking a moment to more carefully scrutinize the surrounding area.

There. Smoke on the horizon. Hopefully not too far. She isn't heavy but he's not at full strength, and he doesn't know how long he'll last. His mana has to be low, so he's got maybe one more Curaga left.

Setting off towards the smoke, the only sound is the crunch of snow under his feet and his own harsh breathing in his ears. He's shivering uncontrollably, and he has to keep a tight grip on Aerith so he doesn't drop her.

Thankfully, one thing seems to be going his way, and it's maybe ten minutes later that he sees a small stone building with a chimney ahead.

Wandering Oaken's Trading Post, he reads on the sign. It'll do. It's not an inn, but it's inside, and maybe they'll know where an inn is. It's better than wandering around blindly and slowly freezing to death.

He pushes the door open with his shoulder and steps inside. The sudden change from cold to heat makes his whole body shake, and he holds Aerith a little tighter.

“Yoo-hoo!” a man's voice says. Leon turns to see a huge man wearing a cozy-looking sweater and cap. The man takes them in and suddenly gets to his feet. “Your wife! She is hurt! Don't worry, my family and I will help you!”

“She's not -” Leon starts, but the man gives him such a spine-chilling look that he shuts up in spite of himself.

“She is not hurt? Just sleeping for show?” He claps his hands. “Wife! Daughter! Auntie!”

Three women rush in and take Aerith from him, and they vanish through a door in the back. The next thirty seconds or so are a whirl of wool and movement, and he's placed in a chair in front of a fire with a blanket around his shoulders. The man has a mug into which he pours a generous measure of a golden liquid, and presses it into Leon's hands.

“Hygge heals all wounds,” he says. “We will discuss payment later.” He smiles and goes back out, leaving Leon alone with the fire.

Leon looks down into the mug. The golden liquid has been mixed into what looks like hot chocolate, and it smells good. He has no reason to trust this man, and in fact, has plenty of reasons _not_ to trust him. But he hurts. He's cold. He doesn't know where they took Aerith, and if he tried to take this place by storm, one good hit and he'd be down for the count.

Besides, in spite of himself, he _does_ trust the huge man. He doesn't know why, but he trusts his instincts.

Cautiously, he lifts the mug to his nose and takes a whiff. It smells like chocolate and herbs. He winces after the first swallow. A little heavy on the liquor, but it doesn't taste bad, and he does feel better already.

Once the mug is empty, Leon sets it down and shrugs off the blanket. Reaching behind, he touches the hilt of his gunblade. Weak he may be, but he's not unarmed.

He pushes open the door they came through and finds himself back in the main shop. It's small but crowded with goods, like hand-knitted sweaters, reindeer harnesses, and small porcelain badges with portraits on them. Leon picks one up and examines it. It shows a light-haired man in full military regalia standing next to a brunette woman in a lilac gown and a small diadem sparkling in her dark hair. With them are two teenage girls: one with platinum blonde hair pulled back into a tight bun, and the other with vibrant red hair in maiden braids. Alone among the subjects of the portrait, the redhead seems to have a delighted sparkle in her eyes.

“Our royal family,” the man explains from behind him. Leon turns and raises his eyebrows slightly. “King Agdar and Queen Idunn, and their daughters, Princess Elsa and Princess Anna.”

“Where are we?” Leon asks. He's pretty familiar with most of the worlds around Traverse Town, although keeping up with the politics and ruling systems of each one is more Aerith's thing.

“You are in the kingdom of Arendelle, of course!” the man replies. “And you have found yourself in the finest retail establishment in the kingdom, Wandering Oaken's Trading Post!” He taps his own massive chest. “I am Oaken.”

“Leon.” He puts out a hand. The man shakes it with a surprisingly gentle grasp.

“Come, let me show you where you'll be staying tonight,” Oaken says.

“We can find an inn,” Leon says.

“ _You_ can find an inn, but your wife should not leave,” Oaken corrects him. “She is in good hands here.”

Leon considers attempting to correct Oaken on his marital status (again), then decides to leave it for now. The risk that he might interpret it as a slight against the women caring for Aerith is too great.

“Thank you. You mentioned payment earlier?”

“We will settle in the morning,” Oaken says. He smiles beatifically. “This way.”

Leon doesn't know why he expected otherwise, but he still feels a shock in his gut when he sees the door open on a room with a double bed.

“It is not the most luxurious of rooms, but I hope it serves your needs.” Oaken gestures grandly.

Leon presses his lips together. “It's fine. Thank you.”

“Sleep well! Don't hesitate to let any of us know if you need anything.” Oaken pats him on the shoulder with, again, surprising delicacy before leaving the room.

Leon takes a moment to take the room in. Aside from the issue of the bed, it's not a bad place to spend the night. The walls and floors are made of rough-hewn wood, and a fire crackles merrily in the fireplace. The bed itself is large and looks soft, and Leon swallows hard. His traitorous brain, quite without his permission, has tripped merrily down the path of himself and Aerith in that huge soft bed, his arm around her waist, her back against his chest, her lips soft and yielding under his -

Leon shakes himself violently, like a dog stepping out of water. Absolutely not. He can sleep in the bed until Aerith gets back, then he'll let her have the bed and he'll sleep on the floor. It wouldn't be the first time.

In an attempt to distract himself, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out his comm. He has no idea if this Arendelle place has service, or if he'll be able to reach Hollow Bastion from here. Still, he has to try and let Cid know.

He takes a seat on the edge of the bed and taps the screen to bring it to life. It's not in too bad of shape, considering it was in a crash. There's service, but it'll be weak. He dials Cid, then waits for the call to go through. The screen lights up with the older man's scowling face.

“Leon? What happened?”

“We were attacked by Heartless on the way to Traverse Town.”

“Where's Aerith? Where are you? How's the ship?” Although Cid just sounds increasingly angry, Leon can see the terror in his eyes.

“We're on Arendelle. I've never heard of it, but we found a safe place to stay for the night. Aerith is being seen to.”

“‘Being seen to?’ The hell does that mean?”

“She got hurt in the crash. She's being taken care of by some women here. She'll be fine.”

“You let her out of your sight?” Cid jerks away from the screen for a moment, and Leon hears him inhale and exhale raggedly. He reappears a moment later, hair mussed, eyes narrowed. “I'm trusting you on this one, Leonhart. Don't make me regret it.”

“I won't.” He hopes. “The ship is salvageable. I'll fix it tomorrow and we'll finish the run as planned.”

“No, if Aerith is hurt, you're coming back to Hollow Bastion. We'll do the supply run another time.”

“You're putting it off a week, at most.” Leon considers his options. “If she's hurt, we'll come back and I'll do the run with Cloud. Okay?”

“Fine.” Cid scowls. “Be careful.” He ends the connection.

“Thanks,” Leon says to the blank screen. He sets the comm on the bedside table and lies down. Tomorrow morning's going to come sooner than it seems, and he can't fix the ship on no sleep.

 

Something's wrong. No, not _wrong_ , but _off_. Something's changed. He wakes, but before he opens his eyes, he observes what he can.

There's someone in the bed with him.

‘Someone’ smells slightly medicinal but the most noticeable scent is floral. Their body is pressed against his, feeling soft and warm, and there's a weight against the top of his arm - which is wrapped around the other person.

So focused on every detail of the newcomer, it takes Leon a moment or two to realize that his body has chosen to react to the presence of someone soft and warm to rub against.

He's  _hard_.

He freezes, heart tripping against his ribs. Oh, stars.

“Leon?” Aerith's voice is gravelly with sleep. “Are you awake?” A pause. He feels her fingers brush along his arm, finding it around her torso. “Oh, you're a cuddler. Wasn't expecting that.”

“Sorry,” Leon mutters. He finally opens his eyes to confirm his worst suspicions. There's Aerith, dressed in a nightgown, pressed against him, his arm around her, her breasts resting lightly on his arm. Her chestnut-colored hair is loose, tumbling in waves around her, and he is hard as a rock and she's hopefully oblivious - or extremely polite.

He feels her laugh more than hears it. “Don't be sorry. I don't mind. And -” she shifts, and Leon realizes that no, she's not oblivious, there's no way she can be - “unless I'm mistaken, you don't seem to either.” A beat. “After all, you haven't moved yet.”

“I didn't want to startle you.” Yeah, that's why. He slides his arm from around her and swings his legs off the bed, getting up. “How are you feeling?”

“Better, thanks.” Leon glances back at her. She's sat up in the bed, watching him. There's color in her cheeks, and she looks well.

(She looks _beautiful_ , actually; green eyes faintly amused, hair falling around her like a curtain, the floral embroidery on the nightgown seeming to draw attention to the curves of her body -)

“Nora and the others were amazing. They said to thank you for your assistance, too.”

“I didn't-”

“Your Curaga,” Aerith corrects him. “Helga said that it kept me stable long enough to get to them, and healed some of the worst of it. If you hadn't acted so quickly, I probably wouldn't be talking to you right now.” She smiles. “So thank you.”

He's still hard. “I'm going to take a shower and take a look at the ship, see if I can get it ready to go. You rest. If you're feeling up to it, we'll go tomorrow morning.”

“Have you spoken to Cid?”

“Yeah. He wants us to come back to Hollow Bastion.”

Aerith tilts her head slightly. “Will we?”

“Rest up,” Leon replies. Aerith rolls her eyes at his non-answer and drops back onto the bed. Her breasts bounce and Leon's mouth goes suddenly very dry. He turns away abruptly and goes into the bathroom to wash up.

A very, very cold shower does the trick, forcing his blood to spread to other parts of his body. His teeth are chattering by the time he steps out, but to him, it's worth it. He quickly re-dresses, then steps back into the bedroom. Aerith has fallen back asleep, and Leon watches her for a moment.

His arms feel oddly empty after being around her. He shakes it off and leaves the room, step after deliberate step.

 

  
In the cold sunlight of the morning, the gummi ship looks much better than it had the night before. Although there's damage to the exterior, none of it seems like it's irreparable.

He goes inside the ship and checks their belongings. Nothing seems out of place or missing, which is a relief. At least there's one plus to crashing in the middle of a wintry nowhere.

Leon exhales. No time like the present. He gathers some gummi blocks from the hold of the ship and sets to work. Regardless where they're heading tomorrow, Leon wants to be sure it  _is_ tomorrow. He doesn't want to survive this crash only for Cid to kill them because he felt they were dawdling.

Several hours and carefully localized, warming Fira spells later, Leon takes a step back and looks at the ship. It doesn't look brand-new, but it'll fly. He opens the door and ducks in, taking a seat and examining the array. Nothing looks broken. He'll have to turn on the ship to be sure it works, so he keys in the ignition sequence.

For a long moment, the ship sits, silent and still. Leon's heart skips a beat. He hadn't considered the possibility that the ship just might not start. What if they're stuck here? How long would it take Cid to get here? Would he be able to bring the necessary supplies, or even be able to fix it? What if -

A low rumble under his thoughts distracts him, and he exhales in relief as the ship starts up. It's just a little slow due to the cold, he realizes.

Navigation systems operational. Fuel supply sufficient. Weapons systems online. Shields regenerating - they wouldn't make it through another Heartless fight right now, but they would be okay tomorrow morning.

He turns the ship back off and is sure to lock up this time. No one else could steal the ship, sure, but they lucked out that no animals got into the food overnight. He's not pressing that luck two nights in a row.

 

Arriving back at Wandering Oaken's Trading Post, Leon pushes the door open.

“Yoo-hoo!” Oaken says from behind his counter. “An invigorating day in the wilderness, yes? Rest and relax in Oaken's sauna!” He tips an enormous wink at Leon, who is not sure what that means. Is it not really a sauna?

“Thanks,” Leon says. “Where's Aerith?”

Oaken grandly gestures back toward the hand-lettered sign that reads SAUNA.

Leon's cheeks pink. “No, I think I'll wait until she's done.”

“Nonsense!” Oaken booms. “A man should join his wife in the sauna! It will relax you for a good night's sleep!”

“She's not -”

“‐ in the sauna? Of course she is! Go on, say hello!”

Leon feels trapped. He can, he supposes, just poke his head in to see if she looks okay. He doesn't have to join her in the sauna.

Feeling Oaken's eyes on him, Leon goes to the back of the small shop to the entrance to the sauna. Awkwardly, he knocks, then pushes the door open.

“Aerith?”

“Leon!” Although she's just as covered by her towel as her dress, Aerith still starts like she's exposed. It's hard to tell if her cheeks get pinker than they already were from the heat. After a moment, she settles with an awkward smile. “Hi. Are you coming in?”

“No. I wanted to check on you. How are you?”

“Fine, thanks.” She touches the towel wrapped around her hair, an abortive nervous attempt to play with her hair. “I'll come out in a few, okay? Then we can talk properly.”

“See you soon.” He steps back and closes the door. For that moment, outside the sauna, he exhales, feels his heart racing like he's just battled a hundred Heartless.

“No sauna?” Oaken interrupts his reverie.

Leon turns. “No.”

“Perhaps I can interest you in another spa service that we offer here at Oaken's? Massage, facial mask?”

“I'm going to go rest. Thanks, though.”

Aerith joins him in the bedroom a few minutes later, fully dressed, hair pulled back into its regular plait.

“How's the ship?” she asks.

“Fine. Mostly external damage. We can leave tomorrow.”

“Good. I'm sure Cid is losing his mind with worry.” She tilts her head slightly. “Are we going back to Hollow Bastion?”

“That depends on you.” Her skin looks so soft and glowing from the sauna. Leon's fingers itch with the urge to touch it, to trace her cheekbone, and maybe -

“I'm fine.” She spreads her arms to show her wholeness. “I can make it to Traverse Town. We need the supplies.”

“I can do it with Cloud, if I need to.”

“You don't.” Aerith smiles and steps closer to him. She smells like lavender. “I'm okay.”

“If there's another Heartless attack, though…” Leon can't finish the thought. The memory of her, pale and bloodied, next to him is too fresh in his mind's eye.

“We've fought Heartless before. They just caught us by surprise, that's all.”

“You got hurt.” He doesn't mean to say it, but it spills out before he can stop it. “It was my fault.” He shuts his mouth before he can say anything else.

“Leon.” Her hand is on his arm, and it's just as soft as it looked. When he turns to her, her green eyes are bright with determination. “You saved my life. Yes, I was hurt, but because of you, I'm alive.” Her hand tightens a little on his arm, firm, reassuring. “Thank you.”

He exhales. Aerith lifts her chin, like she's bringing herself closer to him, and for some reason that's what tears it. Gently, like she's made of porcelain, Leon cups Aerith's face with his hands. His eyes search hers, looking for an answer he's not sure how - maybe not able - to vocalize. The smile that crosses her lips is the answer he needs, and they meet in the middle.

Aerith twines her arms around Leon's neck, pulling herself closer to him. Vaguely, Leon is aware that she must be on tiptoe to reach him, and he curls one arm around her waist to steady her.

They pull apart, but not far, and her smile is radiant.

“I've been wanting that for a while,” she says.

“Really?”

“As though I haven't been half in love with you since we left Radiant Gardens.” She giggles. “I never thought I was particularly subtle about it.”

It's like she knocked him in the head. Since they left Radiant Gardens - ten years ago. The same amount of time he'd been yearning for her before even really knowing what  _yearning_ was, and deciding that the only way he could possibly be worthy of her was to be the best warrior and protector. And all that time …

“We've wasted so much time,” he murmurs.

He watches realization of his words leach into her eyes, and then she laughs, clear like a bell, and presses her mouth to his again.

“Tonight,” she whispers, pulling back just enough for her breath to ghost hot against his ear, “after everyone's gone to bed, we're going to make up for that lost time.”

Leon decides that the only way to properly respond to that is to kiss her, so he does, again and again.

 

Dinner is the longest meal of Leon's entire life. He's absolutely certain that when he's eating at home, it never takes more than an hour, even when something breaks or explodes in the kitchen or Yuffie has to do a dramatic reenactment of every single thing that happened to her that day.

This dinner, on the other hand, has lasted for approximately fifteen years. Perhaps his body hasn't physically aged to match it, but he's sure he's been here that long.

Oaken is regaling them with a story about one of his customers, a particularly rude ice harvester who had demanded carrots for his reindeer, and Leon is struggling to listen and at least look interested. Aerith, next to him, is rapt.

That's why it's such a surprise when he feels the lightest brush of something against his leg, just above the top of his boot. He starts in surprise.

“I know!” Oaken says, taking Leon's reaction as confirmation of the customer's rudeness. “Seventy! I think that's a perfectly reasonable price for that many carrots in the middle of winter!”

Leon glances over at Aerith, still seemingly totally focused on the conversation. She glances back at him and a smile flits across her face. Then he feels it again, more firmly this time, stroking along the side of his leg.

As subtly as he can, Leon peers under the table. One of Aerith's boots is sitting on the floor, unworn, and her legs are crossed, meaning that that pressure on his leg has to be…

His cheeks warm and he looks back up sharply, trying to focus back on the conversation.

“...and I told him, the next time you come, maybe you'll bring a princess, that would justify your attitude!” Oaken laughs heartily. “As though a princess would spend time with an ice harvester!”

“Who's ready for dessert?” Nora, Oaken's wife, asks.

“I'd love some!” says Aerith, who, between her determination to drag the meal out to an even twenty years and her foot's presence on Leon's leg, is the worst person in the world. “What is it?”

Nora beams. “You will love Nora's famous honey cake, my dear! An extra big slice for you, since you're still recovering.”

“That sounds wonderful, thank you.”

The honey cake is delicious, but Leon barely tastes it. Aerith seems to have increased the pressure of her foot against his leg, and she's going a little higher with each stroke of her foot. Somehow, she's also chatting, completely at her ease, as though she's not slowly driving Leon insane.

Finally ( _finally_ ), Oaken sets down his fork and declares today's honey cake the best he's ever had.

“Would you care to join us by the fire, dear?” he asks Aerith. Leon notices a sudden lack of foot on his leg, and now that he's looking for it, he sees her shifting slightly to get her boot back on.

“No, I'm actually really tired,” Aerith says apologetically, and she hides a yawn behind her hand. “I want to rest up before we leave tomorrow.”

“Ah, yes, and then we can discuss your payment!” Oaken smiles at Leon. “Both of you off to bed, then, and we will see you in the morning before you leave.”

“Good night,” Leon says, getting to his feet.

“Good night!” Aerith echoes, and they leave the dining room together.

A nervous energy connects them as they go through the corridor and up the stairs to their room. Leon feels it in his gut, a disbelief that this is actually happening, and to him, with her. Somehow, he never imagined this playing out at all - and certainly not like this.

Aerith closes the door behind her and looks up at him, and her green eyes are wide and serious.

“Last chance to back out,” she says. “If you want to wait or don't think this is a good idea…”

Leon steps forward to close the distance between them, and he presses his mouth to hers, firm.

“If not now, when?” he murmurs, and he almost feels her melt against him.

“All right,” she says, and she reaches up to unbutton his shirt. Her fingers are deft, and she slides her hands across the newly-revealed skin. Leon inhales sharply, feeling the heat of her hands spread under his skin. She slides her hands up to push the jacket and shirt off, and Leon shrugs it off so it falls onto the ground with a clatter of metal.

He’s not ashamed of his body - never has been. He isn't blind to the fact that the years of training have left him with a physique many would consider enviable. All the same, this is _Aerith_ , and she’s seeing it for the first time, and will she like it? What will she think?

She rests a hand on one of his pecs, and she breathes in.

“Nice,” she says, and she beams up at him.

“Your turn,” Leon says, and his fingers find the buttons at the top of her dress. This whole situation feels so surreal, and his fingers move with a surety and ease he doesn't actually feel. His hands should be trembling and uncertain, if they were truly echoing what he felt inside. Luckily, it seems those years of training have paid off, and the buttons slip out of their holes without hesitation.

Aerith steps back a little and shrugs out of her dress, letting it puddle on the ground by her feet.

Leon is thunderstruck. She's perfect. Not that he’d ever thought she would be otherwise, but feverish nighttime imaginings are one thing, and the reality is so, so much better.

“Bed?” Aerith asks, and she gestures, almost shyly.

“Do you trust me?” Leon asks.

Aerith wrinkles her forehead at the unexpected question. “Of course.”

“Good.” Leon scoops her up in his arms in a bridal carry, and Aerith lets out a delighted laugh, wrapping her arms around his neck to secure herself.

“I wasn't expecting that!”

Leon carries her to the bed and sets her down on it, then takes in a deep breath. Somehow - somehow none of this has felt like a line that couldn’t be uncrossed, like they could still go back to the way things were. But this - lying down with her, him shirtless, her just in her bra and panties - this feels like a defining moment. Once this line is crossed, their relationship will forever, irrevocably change.

Is he ready for that? Ready for the questions from Yuffie and Cid? Ready for Cloud’s stony silence?

“Leon?”

She sits up a little, leaning on one elbow. Her hair is starting to escape its plait, curling in chestnut-colored wisps around her face.

In that moment, he realizes he's ready. More than ready. He’s overdue.

He smiles at her, and climbs onto the bed with her. Her arms wend their way around his neck again, pulling him closer to her. She kisses him, lips parting, tongue slipping out to press against his, curious, seeking. He opens his mouth gladly for her, and each brush of her tongue against his sends a sharp jolt of pleasure into the pit of his belly. Unthinking, his hips grind against hers, seeking that friction as a little bit of relief. She lets out a soft, pleased noise, grinding herself against him in return, and Leon fancies he can feel a bit of how wet she is, even through his jeans.

As though she’s thinking the same thing, her hands go to the button and zip of his pants, and she has to break the kiss to get a better look at it.

“You wear such tight pants,” she says, laughing. “Not that I mind.”

Leon inelegantly wriggles out of his jeans and kicks them off, leaning up to catch Aerith’s mouth again. She moans against him, eagerly moving against the hardness that’s now impossible to hide.

His hands slide around her back and press against the clasp of her bra. Suddenly unsure, he breaks the kiss and makes eye contact with her. Aerith nods, shifting so the silky fabric presses more firmly against his hand in an invitation. Leon smiles, then presses himself tightly against her so he can peer over her shoulder to undo the fiddly little clasps. Aerith’s persistent grinding is extremely distracting, as are the little whimpers and moans that she’s making.

Finally, the thing comes undone, and Leon shifts back go pull it off of her. Without meaning to, he lets out a soft growl of appreciation and approval. Aerith laughs and kisses him as his hands explore the newly uncovered skin, finding her already-hard nipples and teasing them to further arousal.

“Leon,” she gasps, breaking the kiss, “please. Stop teasing.”

She shifts against him, slow, pointed, and he can’t miss how wet she is now. He - well, he supposes he can’t take full credit for it, but he helped, and that thought sends a sharp hot shock of arousal through his body.

“Get these off,” he says, and he tugs at her panties. She nods and starts tugging them off, and Leon does the same for his boxer briefs.

Feeling all of her bare skin against all of his is breathtaking - literally. His breath hitches in his throat and for a moment, all he can do is lie there, holding her, every inch of her against every inch of him.

“Leon?” Aerith asks softly. “Have you ever - done this before?”

Leon shakes his head.

“Good. Me neither.” She runs her fingers through his hair. “We’ll have no idea what we’re doing together.”

He huffs a laugh against her shoulder, then shifts his hips.

“Last chance,” he says. Her green eyes find and hold his brown ones.

“I’m yours.”

“Same.”

It’s not as easy as he’d imagined it being. There’s some fumbling, an accidental hair-pull or two, and more than once he has to change direction or speed because of a gasped “ouch!” But when he is finally seated in her, it’s worth every awkward second.

“Leon,” she murmurs into his ear, breathless, “oh my stars, Leon.”

He can’t respond. Not because he doesn’t want to, but he doesn’t have the breath to speak. It’s like he’s been punched in the stomach in the absolute best possible way. She shifts her hips against him with a soft mewling sound, impatient, and he remembers that oh, yes, he can and should move, shouldn’t he?

He starts to move, slowly at first, giving her time to adjust to the new sensation, but Aerith seems more than eager to take anything he can give. The thought stokes a fire low in his belly, and he starts to move faster. Aerith’s arms wrap tightly over his shoulders, her fingers pressing against the back of his neck, her moans and gasps losing definition as they increase in speed and pitch.

Leon feels delirious. She’s here, with him, in his arms - he’s _inside of her_ , by the stars, naked and pressed together so tightly no light can get between them. He pulls back enough to look at her: skin flushed, lips kiss-swollen and parted in ecstasy, eyes closed, chest heaving beneath him.

He’s always loved her. He’s never had eyes for anyone else, not in Radiant Gardens or in Traverse Town. But now, suddenly, in this moment, that love feels like an endless, starlit ocean, like it’s expanding and expanding in front of him, and he’s just remembered how much he loves to swim.

Her eyes open a crack to look at him, and she curls her arms along the back of his head to pull him down for a kiss. His gasps eventually lose even their soft voice as the tightness and heat in his belly grows tighter and tighter and tighter, until it _snaps_ , and he presses to her, panting, overwhelmed. She mewls underneath him, one hand sliding from the back of his head to slip between them, and he feels her hand rubbing furiously at herself. With the adrenaline he still has, he bucks against her. Finally, she throws her head back and cries out, and he feels her spasming and tightening around him.

Aerith collapses back against the bed, breathless and sweating, and she looks up at him, and the smile that curls across her face is reminiscent of the cat that ate not just the canary, but got loose in the aviary.

“How do you feel?” Leon asks. He shifts a little, sliding out, and rolls onto the bed next to her. She turns her head to look at him.

“Amazing. A little sore.” She giggles. “How about you?”

“Happy.”

“Me too.” Aerith closes the distance between them to press a soft, chaste kiss to his lips. “Now rest up. I think I said I was making up for _all_ that lost time, didn’t I?”

 

The next morning, Leon and Aerith find the whole Oaken family waiting for them to say good-bye.

Nora, smiling, hands Aerith an entire honey cake. “For you and your husband to enjoy on your way home.”

“Oh,” Aerith says, a light blush hitting her cheeks, “we’re not married.”

“Not married?” Oaken repeats, scandalized, then turns to Leon. “Why didn’t you say anything?!” He shakes his head. “Come, we must discuss your payment,” Oaken says. He gestures Leon away from the women, and as soon as they are out of earshot, digs an enormous elbow into Leon’s side. “You sly dog. With a companion as beautiful as she is, I wouldn’t have said anything either.”

Leon just sighs.

Munny exchanged, Leon and Aerith step out into the cold winter sunshine, the snow crunching beneath their feet. Leon takes the honey cake to carry, and Aerith reaches for his free hand, tangling their fingers together.

“Traverse Town?” she says.

“Traverse Town,” Leon agrees. He brings her hand to his mouth and presses a kiss to her knuckles, and her giggle rings bright across the frozen landscape.

 To Traverse Town for now, and then … anything and everything. Together.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, they're not mine, just playing in the sandbox. I'm always delighted to write these two - I love them so much, and plopping them down in Arendelle was so much fun.
> 
> Thanks, as always, go to my husband for checking for typos and making useful suggestions; The Pen15 is Mightier on Facebook for letting me write the ridiculous tropes I love but for some reason don't let myself indulge in; and of course, to Walt, for everything.
> 
> Finally, thank you for reading. There's a lot of stuff on the Internet so it means a lot that you spent some time here.


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